D/G drabble/story & Clannad/Bono

[sarea]

I'm such a freak. So I started on that D/G drabble that I owe kourttears, and of course, it's now turned into 11+ pages. Augh. But it's still very drabble-like in the sense that it's a silly bit of nothing. Here's the first little part; it seemed like the most natural cutting off point. I'll probably finish it up tomorrow. Totally unbetaed, so if you see anything amiss, let me know.

~.~

When Draco woke that morning, he was disgruntled to realize that he was alone. As a result, he was forced to spend several minutes in the warm little pocket he had made for himself, without venturing even an inch out of it, for fear of the cold. Normally his bed warmer -- as he liked to call her, though for some reason she didn't like it so much -- would have been there, sharing her warmth, and he would have more freedom of movement. But she wasn't there.

As time ticked by, he wondered where she had gone and why she had left. Well, the 'why' wasn't a mystery; she was constantly complaining that she was going to get in trouble one of these days for never sleeping in her own dorm. But Draco was very good at cajoling her to stay; he knew exactly the look to give her to make her sigh and relent. Giving her the look didn't mean he was begging her to stay; no, he would never do such a thing. He was just coercing her using the most effective means possible: himself. After all, he was Draco Malfoy, and he had a wide range of arsenal to choose from. That was why he was so irresistible, after all.

But the 'where' remained a mystery. It was Tuesday; she had a free period in the morning. She ought to have been here to kiss him awake and canoodle with him in the shower.

Perhaps she was still miffed about the semi-argument they had had last night. She had wanted to know why he never told her he loved her, when she told him all the time. Was it because he didn't love her? If it was, that was all right, but she just wanted to know. Draco had disliked the entire conversation. How did he know whether he loved her or not? The words stuck in his throat when he tried to say them -- was that because he didn't love her, or because expressing the unfamiliar sentiment made him feel awkward, and he hated feeling awkward? But he didn't want to tell her he didn't love her, because while she said it would be all right, he suspected it wouldn't be all right at all, and the one thing he did know was that doing anything that might cause him to lose her was not an option.

Don't you like it when I tell you that I love you? she had asked. And of course he'd had to admit that yes, he liked it very much. He hadn't done more than acknowledge that he liked it, but if asked he would have said that her profession of love made him feel small and big at the same time, made him a bit lightheaded, made him feel he could accomplish superhuman feats, made him want to kiss her and make her say it again and again. Well, I think I'd like it too, she'd said, this sad little smile crossing her face. He'd hated seeing it; hated to think he might be causing her unhappiness, so he'd kissed it away and made her forget about the 'discussion' … but perhaps she hadn't forgotten at all, and that was why she'd stolen away in the morning.

So, he showered alone and began to make his way to his first class -- which wasn't even a 'class' for him, really. He was acting as an assistant to Professor Bahdaire, the latest in a long string of one-term Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers Hogwarts had had in recent history. As the assistant to the normally very poorly coifed professor, Draco's main duties included snickering to himself when one of the clumsy Gryffindor or Hufflepuff third years did something stupid (which was inevitable, and on occasion required him to escort one of them to the Hospital Wing), demonstrating (over and over again) the proper wand movement for a difficult spell (and they all seemed difficult to those poor sods), and daydreaming about what he was going to do to Ginny Weasley when he had her alone again.

Draco was rarely challenged in an intellectual sense during this period, which was probably for the best since he wasn't a morning person and liked to use the hour to wake up. Take this morning, for instance. They were learning about boggarts. Boggarts! Possibly the least interesting or difficult topic DADA had to offer. Draco found himself nodding off in the middle of Professor Bahdaire's lecture, waking only when the noise level from the students changed and he realized they were about to confront a real boggart in a hands-on demonstration.

It was hilarious, especially when some of them turned into blubbering messes when faced with their boggart -- one even ran screaming from the room. Draco had had the unenviable task of going to retrieve the youth (who had fled to practically the farthest part of the castle). When Draco returned, Professor Bahdaire was dismissing the class, saying he had to step out a bit early for mumblemumble (Draco neither heard nor cared), and he wanted Draco to take care of putting things back in order.

The students were cheered by the possibility of having a few free minutes to themselves, and they stampeded out the door. Draco busied himself by straightening the papers strewn about the professor's desk, took up a stack of scrolls that he was supposed to help mark, and erased what Bahdaire had scrawled on the chalkboard. As he was doing this he thought he heard a noise, and hoping it was Ginny, he turned around quickly, only to find that he was still very much alone in the classroom.

She's made me daft, he thought, and began making his way to his next class, which was thankfully Potions.

The rest of the day proceeded as they all did; Draco didn't really expect to see Ginny between classes, as her being a year younger meant that they were constantly in different parts of the castle during the day. However, he was hoping to see her at lunch time in the Great Hall, even if he couldn't actually talk to her. Their relationship was somewhat of a secret … but neither could tell if no one really suspected, or if people did suspect but simply ignored it, because the idea of the two of them together was too strange and if acknowledged, might spur the coming of the Apocalypse. In any case, Draco and Ginny did not openly behave as though they were anything but the average enemies-since-childhood adversaries.

But Ginny wasn't at lunch.

Now Draco was starting to be concerned. What if something had happened to her? Or worse, what if she were actually angry with him? He quickly told himself that that was not the case. After all, if Ginny were upset with him, she would let him know it; she didn't exactly have the most even of tempers. Then again, she was of that mysterious breed of human known as a girl … their minds worked in odd and devious ways. This might be her form of punishing him. But on the off chance that she wasn't doing this to deliberately antagonize him and something had happened to her, how would he be able to find out? He couldn't very well ask Scarhead or her moronic brother. Though … surely if she were in trouble or hurt, they wouldn't be chatting and laughing like loons, their mouths still full of food. Disgusting.

Draco was on his way to the pitch for Quidditch practice when he was confronted with a ghastly sight. There was Ginny, her long red hair being whipped around by the wind, and she was entwined in the arms of someone, a boy with dark hair, and the two of them were kissing.

~.~

Hey corianderstem, I can't imagine you don't already know about this, but just in case, have you heard "In a Lifetime" -- Clannad featuring Bono?

Comments

[sarea-okelani.livejournal.com]

:O What'd he ever do to you?

[mynuet.livejournal.com]

Just be heartlessly sexy. That and he's trying to get me to write this next drabble/fic to heavily feature spanking.